For Such Things Could Wait
by Angleterre97
Summary: "You look beat." Roderich said as she laid her head back on the pillow, brown hair splayed about. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Was her reply with a light laugh. *First AusHun fic*


Seeing him work such long hours was torture. Sweet, melodious, torture. Roderich would wake in the morning and enclose himself in the music room till his eyes simply couldn't stay open, usually in the late hours of the evening or early ones of the morning. He was a musician, a composer who had deadlines to meet and concerts to prepare for...But that didn't make things any easier to take. It exhausted the Austrian, he'd been obsessing over a piece for weeks. It did nothing but concern Elizaveta.

Her husband was pompous, arrogant. Well, she couldn't blame him for that really, growing up in a high-class, aristocratic family. But he was also hard working, meticulous, almost to the point of being musically OCD. This wasn't the first time his work had consumed him so, in fact it happened quite often, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But no matter how often though, it didn't stop the young lady from worrying about her love.

So she too tried to keep herself busy. Clean the house, sweep the walkways outside, tend the garden, make lunch and do the laundry. Lunch, the only time, really, during the day that Roderich would detach himself from his piano.

"How is it going?" Elizaveta would ask as she sets a plate or bowl of whatever she's prepared in front of the man. Usually she would receive a generic answer of 'Well, thank you,' or 'Frustrating. Why did I ever become a composer?' Or somewhere between and along those lines. But either way, it seemed that he always had one more part to write, one section that he could quite get right. Fine tunning. It was endless, monotone. It was funny really, the girl would muse, how the creative engine of music could become that way. Routine, day-to-day, dare she say it...lifeless.

No, maybe not quite lifeless, it just seemed that way when by the end of the night Roderich would look so drained, so spent, only for him to get up and do it all again the next day. Amazing she had thought one day, how freelance creativity became so 9-5.

"Come to bed darling, it's getting late." It was indeed, almost one in the morning. Elizaveta had waited long enough, coming to the conclusion that he would simply fall asleep at his desk if she didn't step in.

"I'll be there in a bit, I have just one more..." She tunned out whatever he was saying, whatever excuse it was. She glided across the polished floors of the large music study and placed a hand upon her husband's shoulder. Roderich silenced his talking and heaved a sigh, a heavy, sleep-deprived sigh. His wife was probably right, no, he knew she was. She usually was, as much as he would like to say otherwise sometimes.

He pats the hand that rest on his shoulder and makes to stand, tired and stiff joints popping as he does so. He's not that old, but not quite young anymore. He closes the keys on his baby grand, neatly files away the days sheet music and finally takes Elizaveta's hand as he is lead away from his work. He switches off the light, feeling tired, slightly satisfied, but mostly tired.

Every night Roderich is sure that the queen sized mattress in their bedroom can't feel any more amazing. To shut his eyes and to leave them shut, he doesn't have to re-open them and strain across bar after bar of black notes, ties, and accidentals. But he does re-open them, when he fells the mattress dip to the right of him. Elizaveta is there, green eyes smiling back at his own. She's takes he flower pins out of her hair, sets them on the nightstand and she yawns while she stretches.

Roderich worries about her all the time. She does all the house work alone while he's stuck at his piano all day, and he wishes that wasn't so. Not that he would rather do chores, hardly. He's never done a chore in his life. He simply wished that she took better care of herself, that he could take better care of her. He wants to spoil his wife, like any good husband should, but she insists upon doing the work herself, even when he has more than just the means to hire a house keeper. Cook, clean, repeat, it was all so strange to him.

He was more than skeptical when she had taken the tasks upon herself. In the end though, all it did was remind him of how lucky he was to have such a strong person by his side.

"You look beat." Roderich said as she laid her head back on the pillow, brown hair splayed about.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Was her reply with a light laugh. He scoffs and huffs, but when Elizaveta looks to the other side of the bed, he's smiling. "You should take the day off tomorrow dear." She says sleepily, curling into her husband's side as she lets her eyes slip closed. Roderich throws an arm around her waist as he too begins to feel his eyes grow heavy. She says this to him every night. Usually it is followed with an 'I wish I could, but I just have just one more thing...' Or 'My deadline is coming up', Or, again, something along those lines.

He doesn't reply right away, thinks for a moment. "Would that make you happy?"

She opens her eyes again and looks up to him. "Yes."

"Will you take the day off as well."

"Would that make _you_ happy?"

And nothing more is said. The next day the sun rises, but neither make a move to greet the morning. When _they_ finally rise, the music room goes unused, as does the closet containing the house keeping supplies. Deadlines could wait for a day, as could the widows, which were planned to be washed thoroughly. They both had waited long enough for each other, patiently. Their daily occupations could do the same.

/OOO/

**Argh! The ending was lame, I didn't know what to do! My second Hetero and I still don't think I have a handle on it, or this pairing for that matter. Probably horribly OCC, sorry :P Reviews, tell me where I can improve. **


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